Closet Apocalypse

Tell me that everything is going to be ok. Tell me that tomorrow isn't just another day of mass shootings and Covid19. The CDC doesn't know if vaccinated people can still spread Covid. I am not confident in the government. Everyone knows that we are all pretending, no matter what we are or what we do.
​We are pretending we know how to be, while at night we lay awake in bed and lose our minds. We think we can't possibly wake up to another day of pretending, but we do because apparently that is what "being strong" is. 
Fuck that. Can we all agree to hide in our closets and cry? Let's pretend we can do it all together. All of us crammed in someone's( hopefully roomy) closet. We are blessed with a 1960s liquor cabinet that magically appears from some secret cubby. Someone brought apocalyptic snacks, you know tuna and saltines and it feels pretty fancy. Clothes are hanging in our faces but we are all drunk on 1960s liquor. I can smell Creme de Menthe and mothballs. 
We aren't holding each others hands or anything we are too socially retarded from pandemic lockdown but we are together and in this roomy closet with our magic liquor cabinet and sad ass tuna crackers. World War 3 is happening, something with Iran. All our kids our addicted to TikTok and doing weird dances or fidget toy videos in the next room. We have a transistor radio because we are all secret hipsters and we are listening... to the end. Still pretending. Beard guy is planning a birthday party for his toddler who strangely has a preference for ripped jeans and edamame slightly salted and we nod our heads. I offer to bring hummus. That girl wearing sandals in the winter takes a picture of an old scarf on a wire hanger for her instagram account. We all watch, because we are drunk and it seems profound because World War 3 is going on outside and we still don't get Tick Tock.
Some dude in the corner tells us all we don't have to worry. He brought a gun. He doesn't know how to shoot it because he went to prep school and his Mom taught yoga but he was smart enough to get one when Trump reigned. We all act like his announcement makes us feel safe but he hasn't been drinking anything but homemade kombucha and has a man bun and I pee myself a little. The kids have confiscated the bathroom and they are making fake spa videos on TikTok and we don't understand them at all so hipster kombucha dude with gun seems like a better alternative.
I daydream about World War 2 cookbooks and victory gardens. Beard guy/man bun dude just found Yahtzee near the old sneakers. I drink my Creme de menthe like medicine. Shit just got real.